The woodchuck looked sulky, and scratched his nose expressively. The raccoon, who had been on the point of asking the same question himself, frowned at him, and said he was ashamed of him. “Pray continue your story, Miss Mary!” said he. “I assure you we are all, with perhaps one exception [the woodchuck sniffed audibly], quite faint 72 with excitement and suspense. What became of you after the Princess’s death?”

“I remained in the forest,” said the parrot. “I could not go back to the village without the Princess; the King would have put me to death if I had made my appearance.

“For some time I lived alone, associating as little as possible with the uneducated birds of the forest. At length, finding my life very solitary, I accepted the claw and heart of a rich and respectable green parrot, who offered me a good home and the devotion of a life-time. With him I passed several quiet and happy years; but finally we were both surprised and captured by a band of American sailors, who had penetrated to this distance in the forest in search of ivory. They treated us kindly, and carried us miles and miles till we came to a river, where other sailors were waiting with a boat. In this we embarked, and after rowing for several days, came to the mouth of the river, near which their ship was waiting for them.

“In the confusion of boarding, my husband 73 managed to make his escape. He flew back to the shore, calling to me to follow him; but, alas! I was too closely guarded, and I never saw him again. He was a very worthy parrot, and a kind husband, though sometimes greedy in the matter of snails.”

The parrot sighed, meditated for a few moments, with her head on one side, on the virtues of her departed lord, and then continued, —

“My life on board ship was a very pleasant one. Petted and caressed by the sailors, I soon lost my shyness, and became once more accustomed to the society of men. I learned English quickly, and could soon whistle ‘Yankee Doodle’ and ‘Three Cheers for the Red, White, and Blue.’ One phrase I objected very much to repeating, ‘Polly wants a cracker.’ I disliked crackers extremely, and could not endure the name of Polly; but for some time I could not get anything to eat without making this stupid remark.

“One day I received a shock which nearly caused me to faint. I was sitting on the taffrail, 74 watching two of my particular friends, Joe Brown and Simeon Plunkett, who were splicing ropes. They always spliced better, I noticed, when my eye was on them. They were talking about some adventure in the forest, and suddenly I caught the words, ‘golden nose-ring.’ I had been half dozing; but this roused me at once, and I began to listen with all my ears.”

“How many ears has she?” growled the woodchuck, in a low tone.

“Twenty-five,” replied the raccoon, in the same tone. “They are invisible to idiots, which is probably the reason why you have never noticed them.”

“‘How did you get that nose-ring?’ asked Joe Brown. ‘You have begun to tell me once or twice, and something has always stopped you. Were there many of them lying around? I shouldn’t mind having that myself.’

“Judge of my feelings when Simeon Plunkett, before replying, pulled out from the breast of his flannel shirt a huge golden ring, set with jewels, —the 75 identical golden nose-ring which had caused the death of my lovely Princess. I shuddered, and came very near falling from the taffrail; but, composing myself, I listened eagerly, and heard Simeon tell the other how, as he and his mates were returning to their boat (he had been with a second exploring party sent out from the ship), they found a well, and stopped to fish in it.”

“To fish in a well?” interrupted Bruin. “What did they do that for?”

“To see what they could catch,” replied the parrot. “What do people fish for in this country?

“The first thing they caught was the body of a young woman, with this golden ring in her nose. Her feet were up, and her head was down; and altogether, Simeon said, it was very evident that, in stooping over either to drink or to admire her beauty in the well, the weight of the ring had overbalanced her, and caused her to fall in.

“When I heard this news I flapped my wings and crowed, to the great astonishment of the two sailors. My enemy was dead, and Polpetti 76 avenged. My joy was great, and I wanted to thank Simeon Plunkett for being the bearer of such good news; so I perched on his knee, and sang him the sweetest song I knew, – a song which had often brought tears to the eyes of my lost husband. But he only said, ‘Princess [they all called me Princess, I should observe], if any other bird made such a row as that, I’d wring its neck.’ The Americans, I find, have absolutely no ear for music.

“We reached America after a pleasant and prosperous voyage.

“After that my adventures may be told in a few words. Joe Brown presented me, as a great treasure, to the captain’s wife, Mrs. Jeremy Jibb; but I found her a most unpleasant person to live with. She kept me in a cage, – a tin cage, – me, the favorite companion of the Princess Royal of Central Africa! She fed me on crackers, called me Polly all the time, and treated me in a most degrading manner generally. If I had been a canary-bird, her manner could not have been more 78 insufferably patronizing. After enduring this life for several weeks, I managed to make my escape one day while Mrs. Jibb was cleaning my cage. After a long flight, I reached this forest, in whose pleasant retirement I have remained ever since. Here I find society and snails, both of excellent quality; and, with these, what more does one require? And here I hope to pass the remainder of my days.”

The parrot’s story, with the various pauses and interruptions, had occupied a good deal of time; and when it was finished the party broke up, promising to reassemble on the following day. Before they separated, Toto asked, as usual, who was to tell the next story.

“Tell it yourself, Toto,” said the wood-pigeon; and all the rest chimed in, “Yes, Toto shall tell the next himself.” So it was settled; and they all shook paws, and departed.

CHAPTER V

THE next day it rained, so the party of friends did not assemble as usual. The bear stayed in his cave, sucking his paw, and listening to the chatter of the squirrel, who came to spend the day with him. The raccoon, after one look at the weather, curled himself up in his tree-house and went to sleep. As for the woodchuck, he never woke up at all, for nobody came to wake him, and he could not do it for himself.

Poor Toto was very disconsolate. He never stayed indoors for an ordinary rain, but this was a perfect deluge; so he stood by the window and said, “Oh, dear! oh, dear!! oh, DEAR!!!” as if he did not know how to say anything else.

His good grandmother bore this quietly for some time; but at length she said, “Toto, do you know what happened to the boy who said ‘Oh, dear!’ too many times?”

“No!” said Toto, brightening up at the prospect of a story. “What did happen to him? Tell me, Granny, please!”

“Come and hold this skein of yarn for me, then,” replied the grandmother, “and I will tell you as I wind it.

“Once upon a time there was a boy – ”

“What was his name?” interrupted Toto.

“Chimborazo,” replied the grandmother. “I should have told you his real name in a moment, if you had not interrupted me, but now I shall call him Chimborazo, and that will be something for you to remember.”

Toto blushed and hung his head.

“This boy,” continued the grandmother, “invariably put the wrong foot out of bed first when he got up in the morning, and consequently he was always unhappy.”

“May I speak?” murmured Toto softly.

“Yes, you may speak,” said the old lady. “What is it?”

“Please, grandmother,” said Toto, “which is the wrong foot?”

“Don’t you know which your right foot is?” asked the grandmother.

“Why, yes, of course,” replied Toto.

“And do you know the difference between right and wrong?”

“Why, yes, of course,” said Toto.

“Then,” said the grandmother, “you know which the wrong foot is.

“As I was saying, Chimborazo was a very unhappy boy. He pouted, and he sulked, and he said, ‘Oh, dear! oh, dear! oh, dear! oh, dear!’ He said it till everybody was tired of hearing it.

“‘Chimborazo,’ his mother would say, ‘please don’t say, “Oh, dear!” any more. It is very annoying. Say something else.’

“‘Oh, dear!’ the boy would answer, ‘I can’t! I don’t know anything else to say. Oh, dear! oh, dear!! oh, DEAR!!!’

“So one day his mother could not bear it any longer, and she sent for his fairy godmother, and told her all about it.

“‘Humph!’ said the fairy godmother. ‘I will see to it. Send the boy to me!’

“So Chimborazo was sent for, and came, hanging his head as usual. When he saw his fairy godmother, he said, ‘Oh, dear!’ for he was rather afraid of her.

“‘“Oh, dear!” it is!’ said the godmother sharply; and she put on her spectacles and looked at him. ‘Do you know what a bell-punch is?’

“‘Oh, dear!’ said Chimborazo. ‘No, ma’am, I don’t!’

“‘Well,’ said the godmother, ‘I am going to give you one.’

“‘Oh, dear!’ said Chimborazo, ‘I don’t want one.’

“‘Probably not,’ replied she, ‘but that doesn’t make much difference. You have it now, in your jacket pocket.’

“Chimborazo felt in his pocket, and took out a queer-looking instrument of shining metal. ‘Oh, dear!’ he said.

“‘“Oh, dear!” it is!’ said the fairy godmother. 83 ‘Now,’ she continued, ‘listen to me, Chimborazo! I am going to put you on an allowance of “Oh, dears.” This is a self-acting bell-punch, and it will ring whenever you say “Oh, dear!” How many times do you generally say it in the course of the day?’

“‘Oh, dear!’ said Chimborazo, ‘I don’t know. Oh, dear!’

“‘Ting! ting!’ the bell-punch rang twice sharply; and looking at it in dismay, he saw two little round holes punched in a long slip of pasteboard which was fastened to the instrument.

“‘Exactly!’ said the fairy. ‘That is the way it works, and a very pretty way, too. Now, my boy, I am going to make you a very liberal allowance. You may say “Oh, dear!” forty-five times a day. There’s liberality for you!’

“‘Oh, dear!’ cried Chimborazo, ‘I – ’

“‘Ting!’ said the bell-punch.

“‘You see!’ observed the fairy. ‘Nothing could be prettier. You have now had three of this day’s allowance. It is still some hours before 84 noon, so I advise you to be careful. If you exceed the allowance – ’ Here she paused, and glowered through her spectacles in a very dreadful manner.

“‘Oh, dear!’ cried Chimborazo. ‘What will happen then?’

“‘You will see!’ said the fairy godmother, with a nod. ‘Something will happen, you may be very sure of that. Good-by. Remember, only forty-five!’ And away she flew out of the window.

“‘Oh, dear!’ cried Chimborazo, bursting into tears. ‘I don’t want it! I won’t have it! Oh, dear! oh, dear! oh, dear! oh, dear! oh, DEAR!!!’

“‘Ting! ting! ting-ting-ting-ting!’ said the bell-punch; and now there were ten round holes in the strip of pasteboard. Chimborazo was now really frightened. He was silent for some time; and when his mother called him to his lessons he tried very hard not to say the dangerous words. But the habit was so strong that he said them unconsciously. By dinner-time there were twenty-five holes in the cardboard strip; by tea-time there 86 were forty! Poor Chimborazo! he was afraid to open his lips, for whenever he did the words would slip out in spite of him.

“‘Well, Chimbo,’ said his father after tea, ‘I hear you have had a visit from your fairy godmother. What did she say to you, eh?’

“‘Oh, dear!’ said Chimborazo, ‘she said – oh, dear! I’ve said it again!’

“‘She said, “Oh, dear! I’ve said it again!”’ repeated his father. ‘What do you mean by that?’

“‘Oh, dear! I didn’t mean that,’ cried Chimborazo hastily; and again the inexorable bell rang, and he knew that another hole was punched in the fatal cardboard. He pressed his lips firmly together, and did not open them again except to say ‘Good-night,’ until he was safe in his own room. Then he hastily drew the hated bell-punch from his pocket, and counted the holes in the strip of cardboard; there were forty-three! ‘Oh, dear!’ cried the boy, forgetting himself again in his alarm, ‘only two more! Oh, dear! oh, 87 DEAR! I’ve done it again! oh – ’ ‘Ting! TING!’ went the bell-punch; and the cardboard was punched to the end. ‘Oh, dear!’ cried Chimborazo, now beside himself with terror. ‘Oh, dear! oh, dear! oh, dear! oh, dear!! what will become of me?’

“A strange whirring noise was heard, then a loud clang; and the next moment the bell-punch, as if it were alive, flew out of his hand, out of the window, and was gone!

“Chimborazo stood breathless with terror for a few minutes, momentarily expecting that the roof would fall in on his head, or the floor blow up under his feet, or some appalling catastrophe of some kind follow; but nothing followed. Everything was quiet, and there seemed to be nothing to do but go to bed; so to bed he went, and slept, only to dream that he was shot through the head with a bell-punch, and died saying, ‘Oh, dear!’

“The next morning, when Chimborazo came downstairs, his father said, ‘My boy, I am going 88 to drive over to your grandfather’s farm this morning; would you like to go with me?’

“A drive to the farm was one of the greatest pleasures Chimborazo had, so he answered promptly, ‘Oh, dear!’

“‘Oh, very well!’ said his father, looking much surprised. ‘You need not go, my son, if you do not want to. I will take Robert instead.’

“Poor Chimborazo! He had opened his lips to say, ‘Thank you, papa. I should like to go very much!’ and, instead of these words, out had popped, in his most doleful tone, the now hated ‘Oh, dear!’ He sat amazed; but was roused by his mother’s calling him to breakfast.

“‘Come, Chimbo,’ she said. ‘Here are sausages and scrambled eggs; and you are very fond of both of them. Which will you have?’

“Chimborazo hastened to say, ‘Sausages, please, mamma,’ – that is, he hastened to try to say it; but all his mother heard was, ‘Oh, dear!’

“His father looked much displeased. ‘Give the boy some bread and water, wife,’ he said sternly. 89 ‘If he cannot answer properly, he must be taught. I have had enough of this “Oh, dear!” business.’

“Poor Chimborazo! He saw plainly enough now what his punishment was to be; and the thought of it made him tremble. He tried to ask for some more bread, but only brought out his ‘Oh, dear!’ in such a lamentable tone that his father ordered him to leave the room. He went out into the garden, and there he met John the gardener, carrying a basket of rosy apples. Oh! how good they looked!

“‘I am bringing some of the finest apples up to the house, little master,’ said John. ‘Will you have one to put in your pocket?’

“‘Oh, dear!’ was all the poor boy could say, though he wanted an apple, oh, so much! And when John heard that he put the apple back in his basket, muttering something about ungrateful monkeys.

“Poor Chimborazo! I will not give the whole history of that miserable day, – a miserable day it was from beginning to end. He fared no better 90 at dinner than at breakfast; for at the second ‘Oh, dear!’ his father sent him up to his room, ‘to stay there until he knew how to take what was given him, and be thankful for it.’ He knew well enough by this time; but he could not tell his father so. He went to his room, and sat looking out of the window, a hungry and miserable boy.

“In the afternoon his cousin Will came up to see him. ‘Why, Chimbo!’ he cried. ‘Why do you sit moping here in the house, when all the boys are out? Come and play marbles with me on the piazza. Ned and Harry are out there waiting for you. Come on!’

“‘Oh, dear!’ said Chimborazo.

“‘What’s the matter?’ asked Will. ‘Haven’t you any marbles? Never mind. I’ll give you half of mine, if you like. Come!’

“‘Oh, DEAR!’ said Chimborazo.

“‘Well,’ said Will, ‘if that’s all you have to say when I offer you marbles, I’ll keep them myself. I suppose you expected me to give you all of 91 them, did you? I never saw such a fellow!’ and off he went in a huff.

“‘Well, Chimborazo,’ said the fairy godmother, ‘what do you think of “Oh, dear!” now?’

“Chimborazo looked at her beseechingly, but said nothing.

“‘Finding that forty-five times was not enough for you yesterday, I thought I would let you have 92 all you wanted to-day, you see,’ said the fairy wickedly.

“The boy still looked imploringly at her, but did not open his lips.

“‘Well, well,’ she said at last, touching his lips with her wand, ‘I think that is enough in the way of punishment, though I am sorry you broke the bell-punch. Good-by! I don’t believe you will say “Oh, dear!” any more.’

“And he didn’t.”

CHAPTER VI

THE rain continued for several days; and though Toto, mindful of the sad story of Chimborazo, tried hard not to say “Oh, dear!” still he found the time hang very heavy on his hands. On the fourth day, however, the clouds broke away, and the sun came out bright and beautiful. Toto snatched up his cap, kissed his grandmother, and flew off to the forest. Oh, how glad he was to be out of doors again, and how glad everything seemed to be to see him! All the trees shook down pearls and diamonds on him (very wet ones they were, but he did not mind that), the birds sang to him, the flowers nodded to him, the sunbeams twinkled at him; everything seemed to say, “How are you, Toto? Hasn’t it been a lovely rain, and aren’t you glad it is over?”

He went straight to the forest pool, hoping to find some of his companions there. Sure enough, there was the raccoon, sitting by the edge of the pool, making his toilet, and stopping every now and then to gaze admiringly at himself in the clear mirror.

“Good-morning, Coon!” said Toto; “admiring your beauty as usual, eh?”

“Well, Toto,” replied the raccoon complacently, “my view of the matter is this: what is the use of having beauty if you don’t admire it? That is what it’s for, I suppose.”

“I suppose so,” assented Toto.

“And you can’t expect other people to admire you if you don’t admire yourself!” added the raccoon impressively. “Remember that! How’s your grandmother?”

“She’s very well,” replied Toto, “and she hopes to see you all this afternoon. She has made a new kind of gingerbread, and she wants you to try it. I have tried it, and it is very good indeed.”

“Your grandmother,” said the raccoon, “is in many respects the most delightful person I have ever met. I, for one, will come with pleasure. I can’t tell about the rest; haven’t seen them for a day or two. Suppose we go and hunt them up.”

“With all my heart!” said Toto.

They had not gone far before they met the wood-pigeon flying along with a bunch of berries in her bill.

“Where are you going, Pigeon Pretty?” inquired Toto; “and who is to have those nice berries? I am sure they are not for yourself; I believe you never get anything for yourself, you are so busy helping others.”

“These berries are for poor Chucky,” replied the wood-pigeon. “Ah, Coon,” she added reproachfully, “how could you hurt the poor fellow so? He is really ill this morning in consequence.”

“What have you been doing to Chucky, you naughty Coon?” asked Toto. “Biting his nose off?”

“Oh, no!” said the raccoon, looking rather guilty, in spite of his assurance. “Dear me, no! I didn’t bite it off. Certainly not! I – I just bit it a little, don’t you know! it was raining, and I hadn’t anything else to do; and he was so sound asleep, it was a great temptation. But I won’t do it again, Pigeon Pretty,” he added cheerfully, “I won’t really. Take him the berries, with my love, and say I hope they will do him good!” and with a crafty wink, Master Coon trotted on with Toto, while Pigeon Pretty flew off in the opposite direction.

They soon arrived at the mouth of the bear’s cave, and looking in, saw the worthy Bruin quietly playing backgammon with his devoted friend Cracker. The latter was chattering as usual. “And so I said to him,” he was saying as Toto and Coon approached, “‘I think it is a mean trick, and I’ll have nothing to do with it. And what is more, I’ll put a stop to it if I can!’ So he said he’d like to see me do it, and flounced off into the water.”

“Humph!” said Bruin, “I never did think much of that muskrat.”

“What’s all this?” asked the raccoon, walking in. “Anything the matter, Cracker?”

“Good-morning, Coon!” said Bruin. “Morning, Toto! Sit down, both of you. Cracker was just telling me – ”

“It is that muskrat that lives in the pool, you know, Coon!” broke in the squirrel excitedly. 98 “He wants to marry the Widow Bullfrog’s daughter, and she won’t have him, because she’s engaged to young Mud Turtle. So now the muskrat has contrived a plan for carrying her off to-night whether she will or no; and if you will believe it, he came to me and asked me to help him, – me, the head squirrel of the whole forest!” and little Cracker whisked his tail about fiercely, and looked as if he could devour a whole army of muskrats.

“Don’t frighten us, Cracker!” said the raccoon, with a look of mock terror. “I shall faint if you look so ferocious. I shall, indeed! Hold me, Toto!”

“Now, Coon, you know I won’t have Cracker teased!” growled the bear. “He’s a good little fellow, and if he wants to help the Widow Bullfrog out of this scrape, he shall. I believe she is a very respectable person. Now, I don’t know whether I can do anything about it myself. I’m rather large, you see, and it won’t do for me to go paddling about in the pool and getting the water all muddy.”

“Certainly not!” said the squirrel, “you dear old monster. I should as soon think of asking the mountain to come and hunt mosquitoes. But Coon, now – ”

“Oh, I’m ready!” exclaimed the raccoon. “Delighted, I’m sure, to do anything I can. What shall I do to the muskrat? Eat him?”

“I suppose that would be the easiest thing to do,” said the bear. “What do you say, Cracker?”

“He is very hard to catch,” replied the squirrel. “In fact, you cannot catch a muskrat unless you put tar on his nose.”

“That is true,” said the raccoon. “I had forgotten that, and I haven’t any tar just now. Would pitch or turpentine do as well, do you think? They all begin with ‘A’, you know.”

“I’m afraid not!” said the squirrel. “‘Tar to catch a Tartar,’ as the old saying goes; and the muskrat is certainly a Tartar.”

“Look here!” said Toto, “I think we have 100 some tar at home, in the shed. I am quite sure there is some.”

“Really?” said the squirrel, brightening up. “Good boy, Toto! Tell me where I can find it, and I’ll go and get it.”

“No!” said Toto. “It’s in a bucket, and you couldn’t carry it, Cracker! I’ll go and fetch it, while you and Coon are arranging your plan of action.”

So away ran Toto, and the squirrel and the raccoon sat down to consult.

“The first thing to do,” said Coon, “is to get the muskrat out of his hole. Now, my advice is this: do you go to Mrs. Bullfrog, and borrow an old overcoat of her husband’s.”

“Husband’s dead,” said the bear.

“That’s no reason why his overcoat should be dead, stupid!” replied the raccoon. “It isn’t likely that he was buried in his overcoat, and it isn’t likely that she has cut it up for a riding-habit. Borrow the overcoat,” he continued, turning to the squirrel again, “and put it on. Old 101 Bullfrog was a very big fellow, and I think you can get it on. Then you can sit on a stone and whistle like a frog.”

“I can’t sit down in a frog’s overcoat!” objected the squirrel. “I know I can’t. It’s not the right shape, and I don’t sit down in that way. And I can’t whistle like a frog either.”

“Dear me!” said the raccoon peevishly. “What can you do? I am sure I could sit down in any coat I could wear at all. Well, then,” he added after a pause, “you can stand on a stone, and look like a frog. I suppose you can do that?”

“I suppose so,” said Cracker, dubiously.

“And Toto,” continued the raccoon, “can hide himself in the reeds on one side of you, and I on the other. Toto whistles beautifully, and he can imitate Miss Bullfrog’s voice to perfection. The muskrat will be sure to come up when he hears it, and the moment he pops his head out of the water, you can drop some tar on his nose, and then– ”

“Then what?” asked the squirrel anxiously.

“I will attend to the rest of it,” said Coon, with a wink. “See that I have cards to the Mud Turtle’s wedding, will you? Here comes Toto,” he added, “with tar enough to catch fifty muskrats. Off with you, Cracker, and ask the Widow Frog for the overcoat.”

The squirrel disappeared among the bushes, and at the same time Toto came running up with the tar-bucket.

“Well,” he said breathlessly, “is it all arranged? Oh! I ran all the way, and I am so tired!” and he dropped down on a mossy seat, and fanned himself with his cap.

Bruin brought a piece of honeycomb to refresh him, and Coon told him the proposed plan, which delighted the boy greatly.

“And I am to do the whistling?” he exclaimed. “I must practise a bit, for I have not done any frog-whistling for some time.” And with that he began to whistle in such a wonderfully frog-like way, that Bruin almost thought he must have swallowed a frog.

“How do you do that, Toto?” he asked. “I wish I could learn. You just purse your mouth up so, eh? Ugh! wah! woonk!” And the bear gave a series of most surprising grunts and growls, accompanied with such singular grimaces that both Toto and the raccoon rolled over on the ground in convulsions of laughter.

“My dear Bruin,” cried Toto, as soon as he could regain a little composure, “I don’t think – ha! ha! ha! – I really do not think you will ever be mistaken for a frog.”

“Ho! ho! ho!” cried the raccoon, bursting into another fit of laughter as he looked towards the mouth of the cave. “Look at Cracker. Oh, my eye! will you look at Cracker? Oh, dear me! I shall certainly die if I laugh any more. Ho! ho!”

Bruin and Toto turned, and saw the squirrel hobbling in, dressed in a green frog-skin, and looking – well, did you ever see a squirrel in a frog-skin? No? Then you never saw the funniest thing in the world.

Poor Cracker, however, seemed to see no fun in 104 it at all. “It’s all very well for you fellows to laugh,” he said ruefully. “I wonder how you would like to be pinched up in an abominable, ill-fitting thing like this? Ugh! I wouldn’t be a frog for all the beechnuts in the world. Come on!” he added sharply. “Let us get the matter over, and have done with it. I can’t stand this long.”

Accordingly the three started off, leaving Bruin shaking his head and chuckling at the mouth of the cave.

Arrived at the pool, they stationed themselves as had been previously arranged: the squirrel on a large stone at the very edge of the pool, with the tar-bucket beside him; the raccoon crouching among the tall reeds on one side of the stone, while Toto lay closely hidden on the other, behind a clump of tall ferns.

When all was ready, Toto began to whistle. At first he whistled very softly, but gradually the notes swelled, growing clearer and shriller, till they seemed to fill the air.

Presently a ripple was seen in the clear water, and the sharp black nose of a muskrat appeared above the surface. “Lovely creature!” exclaimed the muskrat. “Adored Miss Bullfrog, is it possible that you have changed your mind, and decided to listen to my suit?”

“I have,” said the squirrel softly.

“Oh, rapture!” cried the muskrat. “Come, then, at once with me! Let us fly, or rather swim, before your tyrannical parent discovers us! Leap down, my lovely one, with your accustomed 106 grace and agility, into the arms of your faithful, your adoring muskrat! Come!”

“You must come a little nearer,” whispered the squirrel coyly. “I want to be sure that it is really you; such a sudden step, you know! Please put your whole head out, my love, that I may be quite sure of you!”

The eager muskrat thrust his head out of the water; and plump! the squirrel dropped the tar on the end of his nose.

The muskrat gave a wild shriek, and plunging his nose among the rushes on the bank, tried to rub off the tar. But, alas! the tar stuck to the rushes, and his nose stuck to the tar, and there he was!

At that instant the raccoon leaped from his hiding-place.

Toto, still concealed behind the clump of ferns, heard the noise of a violent struggle; then came several short squeaks; then a crunching noise; and then silence. Coming out from his hiding-place, he saw the raccoon sitting quietly on a stone, licking his chops, and smoothing his ruffled fur.

He smiled sweetly at Toto, and said, “It’s all right, my boy! you whistled beautifully; couldn’t have done it better myself!” (N. B. Coon’s whistling powers were nearly equal to those of the bear.)

“But where is the muskrat?” asked Toto, bewildered. “What have you done with him?”

“Eaten him, my dear!” replied Coon, benignly. “It is always the best plan in any case of this sort; saves trouble, you see, and prevents any further inquiry in the matter; besides, I was always taught in my youth never to waste anything. The flavor was not all I could have wished,” he added, “and there was more or less stringiness; but what will not one do in the cause of friendship! Don’t mention it, Cracker, my boy! I am sure you would have done as much for me. And now let us help you off with the overcoat of the late lamented Bullfrog; for to speak in perfect frankness, Cracker, it is not what one would call becoming to your style of beauty.”